


Jules and Jingle Bells

by Drasna



Series: Some Sunny Day [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Play, Angst, Birthday, Christmas, Comfort, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Jensen has made snow shoveling a kink, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut, Snow, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27319312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drasna/pseuds/Drasna
Summary: Dean helps Julie celebrate her December birthday.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Some Sunny Day [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795759
Comments: 41
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Consider this bit of fluff a countermeasure for the "Unity" episode to try and combat all the angst. More than likely a two-parter. I've been needing me some comfort Dean. Hope you enjoy.

Julie nestled the bottom layer of crust into the pie plate. The sliding door swooshed open. Dean’s deep baritone called out. “Jules!”

“Kitchen!”

He bolted through the doorway. With lips parted and eyes wide, his serious gaze landed on her frame. An instant reaction of surprise and approval at her baking lit up his face. Her mouth ticked up at the view. The familiar arousal at her lover’s confident stroll and mere occupation of space began to bubble. On approach, Dean held his phone’s screen out an arm’s length away in her direction. “Look who it is.” He beamed.

Julie dusted off floured fingers and cooed on cue. She waved to Eileen holding the not even two month old Patrick Dean. His widdle chubby cheeks were bright red. Sleepy lids teased at the baby blue irises. Sam poked his head into frame, having to duck down considerably of course, over Eileen’s shoulder.

“Oh my God! He’s adorable in the outfit we got him! A little Winchester if I ever saw one.” Julie couldn’t contain her high pitched enthusiasm. The onesie had a red flannel top and a denim bottom. It was too cute and reminiscent of Dean. She had to buy it and ship it straight away to Sam and Eileen when she came across it online.

Dean snuggled up behind Julie, mimicking Sam. A quick kiss met her cheek prior to positioning the phone so they could both interact with the new parents.

Julie made sure Eileen looked at the screen when she asked, “How are you doing, mamma?”

“Good. Exhausted. Round the clock feedings. He doesn’t stop eating.” Eileen’s tired eyes lifted up along with her lips into a smile.

“He gets that from his uncle.” Dean replied with a smirk in the smaller screen.

“He’s also loud and always yells, like his uncle.” Sam chuckled.

Julie patted away the hurt expression on Dean’s face.

Eileen rocked Patrick. He had on mittens and rubbed them all over his face. His little lids were now scrunched up tight. “We tried to call you first, Julie. Wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday.”

A small sigh left Julie’s mouth. She signed and said, “Thank you.” A dusting of flour coated her mouth. “I can’t wait to see you all in person in a little over a week.”

“I can’t believe Dean is going to get on a plane again so soon.” Sam shook his head.

“Come on, Sammy. I’m not going to miss the little guy’s first Christmas.”

Patrick opened his mouth and began to wail. An eruption of red splotches flared all over his face. Eileen waved, then trotted away with the baby. “Well, that’s a sample of what you have to look forward to. Getting a hotel room is a genius idea.” Sam yawned and wiped a massive hand over his face. He combed through long strands and scratched the top of his head.

“Hey, the last thing you need to worry about is dealing with house guests on top of a newborn.” Julie added. “Besides, Brigida’s coming along so we can split time at my brother’s for the holidays. Makes things easier for everyone.”

“Well, we just wanted to say hey. What’s my brother doing to celebrate your big day?”

“It’s a surprise, Sam.” Dean stared hard into the camera.

“Alrighty then. Have fun with Chilly Willy, Jules. Bye, guys.” Sam shot them a weary smile and tapped the screen to end the call.

Dean kissed Julie’s neck and stepped back, sinking into the closest seat. She got back to chopping apples. He knocked her calf with his boot. “Explain to me again why you’re making _me_ a pie on _your_ birthday?” He nodded his chin at the kitchen counter and smiled.

“Because I enjoy doing things I like on my birthday. And, making you smile is something I like doing.”

“You make me smile all the time, babe.”

Julie frowned. “Except when it comes to your unsuccessful attempts to teach me the basics of handling weapons and defending myself.” She sighed. “Did you tell Sam what happened?”

Dean waved off the question and gave her an incredulous shake of his head.

“Why not? Baby,” Julie cringed at the recollection, “I almost shot your foot off yesterday.”

Dean shrugged. “Bet you’ll never forget to check the safety ever again. And, you almost shot my pinky toe off, not my foot.”

Julie clapped hands over her face. The heat of embarrassment mixed with guilt. Even the smell of apples, sugar, and cinnamon couldn’t make her feel better.

He rose from the chair to stand behind her once again. Warm palms rubbed her forearms covered in a cable sweater. Dean dropped his head. His lips brushed her ear. The words came out on a wave of coffee breath. “Hey, the steel toed boots did their job.”

“The last thing I want to be is a burden. Something or someone else you feel you have to protect.” She mumbled through her fingers. “I want to be a help, not a hindrance.”

His lips curled into a smile and pressed a kiss into her hairline. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m going to want to protect you no matter what. Even if you were the best hunter on the planet. That’s not a burden, sweetheart. I consider it an honor. Like a king’s guard. You’re my hot queen.”

Julie crisscrossed her hands over her chest and grabbed both of his wrists. “You and your Game of Thrones kink.” She chuckled and leaned back into his chest.

“Oh, come on. You had fun, Khaleesi.”

“Speak for yourself, Ser Jorah.”

The whispers were lower, getting more seductive. “You going to be ready to leave by four?”

“For my surprise?”

“Yep.”

“Depends on how well you’re going to wield that sword of yours while the pie’s in the oven.”

Dean’s happy groan made her giggle, lifting some of the weight from her heart.

*

Dean opened the passenger door for Julie. “Dean, this is so…” Julie trailed off, still processing where they had arrived.

Dean waved an impatient hand. A puff of cool breath released from his pink, full lips.

“Hallmark-movie cute.” Julie pulled the wool cap on her head upon exiting the Impala.

Baby’s door squeaked closed under the push of Dean’s red fingertips. “Well, you must like Hallmark movies, sweetheart. You’ve mentioned this place a bunch of times.”

She smiled at how fast his cheeks were turning rosy in the parking lot. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to come.”

He shrugged. “Christmas Trees. Lights. Hot chocolate. Holiday cheer. Why wouldn’t I like that? I’m not Mr. Humbug Sam.” His arm wrapped around the waist of her quilted jacket and tugged her body close in a comfortable, synced stride. “But, I’m more of a Lifetime Movie watcher.” Groups of families and couples strolled to the lobby entrance doors. “Longwood Gardens, here we come.”

They were in the line for only a minute, behind a family of four in matching Santa hats, when Julie felt a nudge on her right shoulder. She turned to find two very similar smiles staring back at her.

“Happy Birthday, Julie.” Jack lunged toward and corralled Julie in an embrace. It knocked the air out of her lungs. He had definitely learned his bear hugging technique from Dean.

Cas nodded in confirmation. “Dean said you’d like it if we surprised you and tagged along as a third and fourth wheel.”

“That’s not exactly how the saying goes, Cas.” Dean’s reply shot over Julie’s head.

“I don’t like the surprise.” Julie tucked the inside of her elbow around the back of Jack’s neck in a soft headlock. She frowned over at Cas. As soon as she received the requisite confused expression from the former angel she followed right up with, “I love it.”

“Sarcasm. You and Dean seem to enjoy that type of humor quite a bit.” Cas tilted his head along with the side of his mouth.

Jack scanned a brochure on their way to the counter to collect their reserved tickets. “You’ve been here before, Julie?”

Julie’s mind had spaced out for a few seconds, staring at Jack. It still threw her headspace for a loop realizing he was the offspring of Lucifer. She wondered how much he looked like his father. “Oh, yes. Lots.” Dean sidled up to the attendant and checked in. His low voice mingled with the dozens of conversations filling up the high ceilinged lobby. “It’s beautiful all year round. But, Christmastime is extra special.”

Jack pointed to the paper in his hand and hurried his fact recounting. “There’s over a thousand acres of the botanical garden property. It says they have a fountain light and music show, a miniature train, their outdoor light display has over half a million lights.” Once Dean flashed their little group the tickets, Jack added, “They even have a beer garden.”

“This place is sounding better by the minute.” Dean smirked.

“Be prepared for lots of walking gentlemen.” She hooked her elbows into Dean and Jack’s arms, feeling a little like Dorothy. “Ready?”

“Born ready.” Jack replied.

Julie caught a proud smile on Cas’s face.

Once they had their tickets authenticated and passed through the archway, the twilight sky and cold temperature greeted them. Stone walls on either side receded with each step. Landscaped gardens came into view in all their natural and redesigned glory.

The combination of garden styles always took Julie’s breath away on first sight. She knew off to the left were the French inspired Versailles-style manicured lawns with statues and stone arches. There were mansions and cottages, little ponds, reflecting pools, a huge exhibition hall… a horticultarilist’s dream. It made her envy everyone with plant patience and a green thumb.

Lights wrapped around almost every tree, bush and hedge in sight. The overall effect would be even more dramatic as night fell. It was everything the term Winter Wonderland embodied for Julie.

“I do admire humanity’s creativity and artistic expression.” Cas offered the opinion to the group in a low voice.

*

Dean passed his cup to Julie. She sipped the Pilsner. They mulled about the beer garden an hour into their travels. German folk music blared from the Oktoberfest-like tent. The smell of ale was sharp and pungent at this rest stop. A winding path between towering, narrow tree trunks wrapped and lit in a rainbow of colors awaited them next.

Dean tapped a boot on the concrete in time with the beat.

Cas approached Dean head on and stopped a foot in front of him. “Jack wants to get going to spend some time at the train display.”

Dean nodded. “Sure, we’ll catch up.”

Cas planted himself in front of Julie next. “Are you enjoying yourself, Julie?”

Julie’s eyes widened, passing the large cup back to Dean. “Very much.” She grinned.

Cas smiled. “I’m glad. Dean said you deserved a special day and I agree.” He left in a hurry after a quick call from Jack.

Dean chuckled to himself.

“What?”

“The look on your face sometimes, Jules. You are trying so hard to figure all this shit out.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you for trying.” He pointed to Cas catching up to Jack. “See that trenchcoat he’s wearing?”

“Yeah.”

“That was like his superhero costume. He wore that damn thing all the time. But not with a dad sweater and khakis. Business suit and backwards blue tie.”

Julie’s nose crinkled. “It must have smelled awful.”

Dean laughed again. “Not really.” He shrugged at Julie’s look of disbelief. “He probably just snapped his fingers and dry cleaned it. His vessel didn’t operate the same way our bodies do. Who the hell knows, really.” He chugged the rest of the beer and tossed the cup in a nearby receptacle. His arm draped over her shoulder. They started down the walk.

Julie risked the cold temperature, sliding her hand out of her warm pocket to intertwine her fingers with his. She lowered her voice as they passed a meandering group on the path. “Would he be offended if I asked him some questions? About his vessel? What it was like for him before he turned human?”

“Cas doesn’t get offended by much. You know that.”

“No, I don’t know that. I haven’t had a ton of interaction with him one on one. Either you or Jack or both are always around.”

“Huh. Well, he wouldn’t.”

Julie chuckled.

“What?”

“Flannel is your superhero costume.”

“Can’t argue that one.”

Julie stared up at that face bathed in ever changing colors as they strolled. His gaze darted from side to side, taking in the sights. He’d dip his head down every so often to meet her eyes. Julie mumbled, “I like making these kinds of memories with you.” She lifted up on tiptoes for a second to peck his chilly lips.

“Me too, sweetheart.” He grinned.

*

The foursome had filed one by one up the narrow winding staircase of a treehouse. Thick wooden slab steps and an iron railing wrapped around a trunk Dean eyeballed to be at least four feet in diameter. The house was one of many temporary yet sturdy structures built for guests trekking through the garden to explore.

They piled into a tiny room as another group waited to take the steps down. Julie peeked out a carved opening and spotted one boy chasing another down below around another massive tree. The tiny porthole gave a glimpse of some snowflake lights hanging from a few nearby branches as well. “Surprised they don’t have fairies zipping through the air.” Julie noted. Dean pressed tight against her back, on purpose, and bent down to see the sights as well.

Jack, who was ahead of them with Cas, waited to go up another stairwell. The wood sign above the doorway advised ‘Crow’s Nest - 2 at a time only’. He turned at Julie’s statement and stared back at Dean. “A fairy… like Mrs. Butters.” He always smelled like the sugariest of cereals.

“Wood nymph.” Dean corrected.

Julie raised a brow at Dean and mouthed, “Nymphomaniac?”

Dean lowered his brow and shook his head. “Story for another time.”

“Always a story for another time.” Julie sighed.

Dean’s knuckles stroked the back of her quilted coat in a rhythmic motion. The synthetic material gave under the pressure and sounded like he was playing a washboard. His close presence was all the portable heater Julie thought she would ever need. He wore her favorite cologne for the special occasion. She took a deep whiff to inhale his personal signature scent underneath.

One couple had appeared in the crow’s nest doorway, then made their way clockwise around the trunk. Cas announced, “Alright, Jack. Our turn.” He gave Jack the lead with an outstretched hand.

Dean and Julie waited in silence, not really paying attention to the conversation of the group behind them. By some impressive contortions, her hand had found its way into one of his front jean pockets. If he’d made a snide comment, she would have feigned innocence and claimed it was an effort to keep warm. He had plenty of body heat to spare, she would have countered. But, he only hummed in her ear and kept stroking the back of her coat. He stayed quiet, aside from a cough, when she brought the other hand around her back and cupped his growing bulge.

He began to rock back and forth on his boot heels, slow and purposeful, leaning into her palm. No one seemed the wiser to their foreplay. Julie’s pulse quickened.

“How are you liking your birthday celebration so far, sweetheart?” Dean peered down with heavy lidded eyes. Top front teeth tugged that pillowy bottom lip inward when she gave his cock a soft squeeze through the denim.

“It’s been awesome, Dean. Can’t wait to unwrap this big package you have for me.” She beamed the sweetest smile she could up at him. His length firmed up against fanning fingers.

He shot her a full watt smile of pearly whites and eye crinkles. “Oh, I can’t wait to see the expression on your face when I give it to you.”

The sound of Cas clearing his throat had them turn in his direction and snapped out of their mutual distraction. He raised a brow at being in either the perfect or worst viewpoint to see what they were up to, depending on one’s inclination. Jack hurried down the stairwell, oblivious and off to the next stop. “Don’t hold up the line, you two.” Cas reprimanded.

Julie extricated a hand out of Dean’s pocket and climbed up the steps. Dean huffed behind, closing the distance in no time. “Wrong direction if you’re trying to get away from me.”

A gasp escaped her mouth at the biting, crisp air and the sight when her boots hit the nest’s floor.

Snowflake lights dangled from what seemed like a hundred branches. Each flake, different and distinct, shimmered and competed with the stars in the dark sky above bare naked treetops. The illumination gave the little patch of forest an ethereal feel.

Dean scooped her up from behind in an embrace. His biceps weaved under her armpits and coveted the front of her body with a crisscross of forearms and hands. Those soft warm lips kissed her neck. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.” A soft sob pushed out from her lips. She did her best to not let Dean hear the hiccuped breath forcing it back down. 

“Jules?” She didn’t have to turn around. She knew the exact look of confusion on his face in that moment. Could hear it in his question.

“Don’t let me go, Dean.”

He constricted his hold, then whispered in her ear. “Never.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this got uber fluffy, then angsty, then a whole lot of smutty. I got very inspired and frankly the rainy, chilly day just lent itself to finish this. Apologies if this isn't as polished as usual. I only did a couple read throughs.
> 
> Give me all the Dean. Anyone else in love with a fictional character, please raise your hand. 
> 
> Whew. Enjoy.

“Did you see that?” Julie pointed to Baby’s windshield.

Dean leaned up from the driver’s seat, out of his casual recline, and stared at the spot in question.

“There. Another one.” Julie’s finger swerved up and to the left.

Headlights from oncoming traffic lit up the interior and the wet speckled glass. “Snow.” Dean hummed out the word. One by one, flakes landed with a fluffy pelt and melted. He hit the wiper blades for a quick swish then turned them off again.

Julie sipped at the now lukewarm cocoa they had bought on their way out of Longwood. She offered Dean the cup when he was on a straight bit of road, not too far from their neighborhood. “It would have been wonderful to walk through the gardens in the snow.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t time the snowfall correctly.” Dean chuckled after a long sip. “Next time.”

“That would have been a little too Hallmark-movie cute.” Julie loved Baby; but it was times like these she wished Dean’s beloved car had a shorter bench seat so she could stay buckled in and cuddle against her man. Handsome as ever, feet away, she ached to scratch the back of his scalp and the short strands peeking above the collar of his blue corduroy jacket.

A minute after turning into the neighborhood it was Julie’s turn to be confused. Dean drove down the lane that would take them to his place. “Not my house? The pie’s there.” She reminded her always hungry driver.

“Only pie I want to eat tonight...” He trailed off the comment to stare directly in Julie’s eyes, making her blush, then rotated Baby’s steering wheel with one palm. The black beauty eased slow and steady into the driveway. He killed the engine. Snow dotted the car windows at a faster clip with soft taps. The patch of Dean’s lawn illuminated by the floodlight sparkled with white precipitation. “For future reference, the best birthday gift for me would be eating you out on this seat.” His hungry stare raked over her body.

Julie gulped. “I wouldn’t mind that birthday gift.”

He broke the mood with a cheeky grin. “That would have saved me a whole bunch of time, sweetheart.” He took one long swig of the cocoa and handed her the cup. A momentum catapulted him out of the driver’s seat. In a couple seconds, he opened her door. She rose to meet his waiting, chocolate coated lips. She moaned. “I taste good, huh?” He sassed. “Not as good as you, though.” He pressed her back into the edge of Baby’s roof for another kiss. A whiplash speed inspected the interior of her mouth. Tasty remnants of the creamy confection identified by every single taste bud his tongue caressed. Her fingers grabbed at the hair she’d wanted to touch the entire drive home. Cold snow pricked her skin and contrasted Dean’s fiery temperature. He broke off the kiss with a groan. “Still have a few more things to tick off the celebration list before I devour you.” He straightened and made a circle motion with his palm. “I need you to control ALL this for a little longer.”

She mimicked his action. “Well, ditto.”

Dean left boot tread prints in the tiny layer of snow. On his walk to the front door he turned back to Julie often. “It’s not a big deal, so don’t get your hopes up.” He stuck the key in the lock. “But, will you close your eyes for me… be a good girl and wait until I tell you to open them?”

“You asking me to be a good girl is doing nothing to control ALL this.”

His eyes lit up. “Please, baby doll?”

Julie whined. “Dean…”

He chuckled. “Sorry.” A kiss placed on her forehead as she waited beside him on the threshold smoothed everything over. “Please.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. A click of the lock and hinge squeak filled her ears. She was seriously buying him some WD40 as a gag gift. Dean’s warm fingers gripped both hands and guided. A breeze flicked the loose hair hanging below her cap with the swish of the door closing. Her head tilted this way and that, trying to track Dean’s darting around the room. Rustling, some tripping, some cussing followed. She giggled and clasped her hands in wait.

“Alright.” A sigh preceded Dean’s request on her left. “Open ‘em.”

The lump rose in her throat along with her lids as she took in the scene. “Oh. Wow.” Her reaction sounded detached, far away, overpowered by the pounding of her heartbeat.

A long, string of Christmas bulbs hung around the living room. Blankets, comforters and pillows piled in the middle of the floor looking like Dean had bought a department store out of their entire inventory of bedding. An undecorated, fake five foot Christmas tree stood by the television. Newly boxed ornaments stacked under the tree skirt like presents. Bowls of candy and chips littered the coffee table along with bottles of soda.

Tears welled up in Julie’s eyes. Dean’s tall frame and hesitant smile stepped into her cloudy vision.

“I got the idea about a week ago, when we were making plans to visit Sam and Eileen for Patrick’s first Christmas. You started talking about the holiday season. How you had stopped decorating after the first couple years of being married. That it wasn’t worth the hassle, you know, without kids to have to go all out for. That’s what you said, anyway. Then, you mentioned what you would do with your mom and dad and Joe, growing up, on your birthday. That December 16th was the official Christmas tree trimming day in the Cuore home.” Fingers pulled her to him at the waist. Forehead ridges rested against hers. A warm whisper bathed her face. “Let’s do that tonight, Jules.”

Fingers crawled up his flannel shirt. The red one that she loved. Even though blue was her favorite color and Dean always looked dashing and dreamy in blue, there was something about red on this man. It showcased his innate power and stirred up all her carnal wants. Hands slinked and merged in a tight clasp around his neck. “You are the sweetest, you know that?”

“Shhh. Let’s just keep that between the two of us.”

*

Dean and Julie spent an hour decorating the Christmas tree. It was a tug of war initially, between Julie’s methodical ornament placement on branches and Dean’s tossing of tinsel clumps in various shapes and sizes. By the end, the tree was a hot mess of holiday cheer. The two stared in pride at their combined result.

“Done.” Dean rubbed his palms together. “And, we’re both still in one piece.”

Julie flopped atop four pillows fashioned into a bean bag situation. A handful of sour cream and onion chips made their way into a tiny bowl and into her lap. “Best decorated tree in all of Delaware.” She crunched away.

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “I think we may have some competition with all those trees we saw in the exhibition hall at Longwood.”

Her fingers twiddled in the air. “But, they haven’t been touched and fawned over by one Dean Winchester.”

He tilted his chin up in agreement under pursed lips.

She patted a mound of fluffy blankets. “You should join me.”

“I will in a minute. Be right back.” Dean dashed down the hall.

A muted claymation special played on the television. Julie took in the transformation of Dean’s living room, now exploding with Christmas spirit. Fun and color and warmth and excessive everything. Cheek muscles ached from a plastered smile. She was in awe of how much Dean listened to what she said. Things she hadn’t even recalled spewing. But, he hadn’t just listened. He picked out and heard what was truly important in the ramblings and details. Latched onto them. Spurred himself into action with them. To make her happy.

Dean’s sock covered feet trampled along the tundra of comforters. He melted close to her right, descending into a seated position with his bow legs bent at the knees, flopped open, one ankle crossed over the other. A gift the size of a shoe box had been wrapped in red and green striped holiday paper. It rested next to the denim covered package Julie really wanted to get her hands on.

Julie rotated to face him, her bare feet snuggling under the warm curve of her ass and adding a few inches to her seated position. Palms rested on her thighs in wait.

“Happy Birthday, Julie.” That grin. Jesus, that grin might be the thing that truly stopped her heart one day. “These are probably going to need an explanation.”

“Lucky for you, I love to hear you talk.”

He slid the box over a few inches. But, still held captive in his bow leg bear trap.

She didn’t bother to feign civility and ripped the half decent wrapping job open at the top. Her shoe box assumption had been correct. She lifted the lid and got a whiff of leather. Pulling back the tissue paper revealed a rectangular box. A tiny sticker on the edge announced whatever was inside was made of silver plated carbon steel. She opened it.

“You’ve been beating yourself up over not being good with a gun for weeks. And, even though I’d much rather have you as far away from a baddie as possible and take ‘em down with a bullet… if you ever are in a predicament with one charging you and they don’t go down with a shot, well, you’re going to need something like this.” He popped it out of the molded encasement by the sharp tip and wrapped his fingers around the blade. “Silver takes care of a lot of monsters.”

“So you’ve said.” Her lips twisted up.

“What?”

“Are you going to teach me how to use this? Cause we’ve seen what happens…”

He shook his head and pushed the hilt toward her like a parent attempting to force feed a toddler with a spoon full of pea soup. “Grab it. Don’t pull until I open my hand and release. Or your slicing me up on your birthday.”

She sighed and did as told. The knife was cold and weighted.

“We’ll work on proper handling, some self defense moves and all that another day.” He dipped into the gift box and pulled out the item that was the source of the leather smell. “This is one of my favorite sheaths. Been with me a couple decades. You can slip it onto the cuff of a sturdy pair of work boots or hide it inside those sexy ones you’ve got with the heels.”

She glossed over the flirty comment, wanting to thank him for the thoughtfulness. But, that self defeating attitude was more powerful. “Dean, I’m not going to be a good hunter. You know that. Old dog, new tricks deal.”

That tell tale look of irritation began to surface. “Sweetheart, I keep telling you, it’s not about you hunting by my side. I need to know that if by some chance I’m not there when danger comes knocking…” It was his turn to sigh. He licked his lips, thinking, forming his next words. “You’ve gotta do this, learn this basic stuff. For me. For me to be okay with us, this, I need you to not give up on trying with this part of it all. Okay?”

“It’s scary.” She shrugged and turned the blade in her hand. Red, blue and green light bounced off the gleaming metal.

Dean tossed out that little ‘aw, shucks, ma’am’ grin. “Honest? In this moment?”

Her eyes tracked up to meet his gaze. She nodded.

“Jules, I’m scared all the time when I’m out on a hunt. I use the fear, the adrenaline it pumps me with, and tunnel it into some sort of focus. Gotta feel it and work with it. It’s never gonna not be there. Any hunter who says they aren’t scared is lying through their teeth. If they aren’t scared, they’re dead.”

She nodded in understanding.

“You can be strong and scared at the same time, you know?”

She smiled.

“Plus,” he sighed, “I’ve seen you in the kitchen with knives. I think we can work with that.”

That made her giggle.

He opened his palm for the knife. She handed it back and Dean slid it into its new leather home, then tossed it feet away with deft precision atop the tree skirt. His eager eyes flitted back to hers. “One more thing in there. But, it’s more on loan. Can’t actually keep it.” He laughed at her reaction. “Was waiting for the nose crinkle.”

Julie pulled off the last bit of tissue paper. She felt her nose crinkle again as she wondered if this was also a source of the leather smell. A bulky, thick journal rested on the cardboard base. She picked it up, ran fingers along the worn, tan-faded cover. The belt and loop closure must have been opened thousands of times. The tumblers in her mind slid into the right spots to unlock the connection. She remembered the Supernatural novels. John Winchester. “Your dad’s?”

Dean nodded with a smile.

In an instant, Julie thought this was the most precious and delicate gift ever given to anyone. She threw the shoe box off to the side and placed the journal on the blanket in Dean’s bowlegged safety circle. She sunk into a more comfortable seated position and leaned over the book, unclasping it with care. Dean’s breath warmed the crown of her head. She scanned and turned the pages in a type reverent prayer, memorizing a missal. Dates and details and drawings and descriptions. Monster sketches, newspaper and book clippings. Page after page of thoughts and ideas, written down by his and Sam’s dad. Fragments of sentences working out what in the hell this thing could be that was killing people in Any Town USA. She pulled out random words and feelings: demon, yellow-eyes, Mary, kill, stop, protect, boys, Mary, Mary, Mary.

The deep timbre of Dean’s voice washed over her. “I know Sam has shared a bunch of stuff with you on the computer. About what we do, what we hunt. But, I think this might give you a clearer picture of why. I know the books you’ve read spell everything out…” 

She tipped her head up to stare at him. “But, this is your dad’s voice. His motivation. What started it all. Kept you on this path for so long.”

Dean nodded.

“Baby, thank you for sharing this with me.” She made sure all the pages fell back into place snug and the way they had been when she started, working backwards and securing the belt back in its loop. She grabbed it with both hands, sat up and presented it back to Dean. “This is too special and important for me to even have on loan. I’ll be good with you letting me read it when I come over.”

Dean’s eyes widened.

She nodded in reassurance.

He grabbed, then placed the journal on the nearest sofa cushion. Julie gasped and giggled when his hands latched into her armpits, tickling with his thumbs as he encouraged her forward to climb onto his lap, his legs struggling with the blankets to straighten out the whole time. He grunted like a grumpy old man. Out of breath, she straddled thick thighs and balanced her hands on his broad shoulders. His fingers brushed back her hair, staring up into her eyes. “Never too old to celebrate a birthday or the holidays, Jules.” His voice was soft.

“You didn’t get to celebrate many growing up.”

He shook his head. “Santa and snowmen weren’t priorities for Dad. I tried to, with Sammy. But, the constant shuffling around, the crappy motels, knowing that monsters are real… there’s no way to hold onto innocence and wonder about a fat guy in a red suit who wants you to sit on his lap.” It was her turn to run fingers through the sides of his short strands. “Earlier, Jack mentioned Mrs. Butters…”

“The wood nymph?”

“Yeah. Long story short, she turned out to be kind of the caretaker for the Men of Letters bunker. We had accidentally reactivated her and she started up in full blown take care of the boys mode. I mean it was like a week of every holiday and birthday with satisfying monster hunts in between. It was awesome.” His far away smile warmed Julie up inside. “But, it was all missing something.” His eyes focused on her again. “It was missing you.”

She rested a palm on his chest to center herself and focus. This man would not make her cry again. Not yet, at least. Not until she said what she wanted. “I’ve lost so much time. A decade of my life playing a role, living a half life. I know out of anyone, you can understand trying to deal with the fallout of diabolical forces taking away your will, writing your story for you. But, this, with you. We’re writing it, just you and me, as we go, aren’t we?” 

He smiled.

“We’re going to fumble and make mistakes. But, we’re going to be there for each other, too. For the right reasons. I’ll keep trying. Even if it’s the hardest thing I do. Even if I totally suck at it.”

A nod. “Because that’s what we do, sweetheart.” A slight shift and his stare turned hungry. Her breath hitched at the slow tease of his fingers. They’d made their way under her sweater, flirting with the softness of her tummy and the waistband of her leggings. “Let’s cut the sap. And, get down to business. Someone deserves a happy ending to their birthday.” He wedged his right hand between the warmth of her skin, under the fleece lining and the lace panties. She watched in wonder as his eyes lit up. “Are you wrapped up special for me, too, tonight?”

She nodded into the sigh. His massive hand burrowed farther, cupped her sex. He groaned against the tender flesh of her neck. Julie rose higher on her knees, shifted, gave him room to get down to business. He nipped and sucked tiny kisses along her throat, made her gasp in relief and gratitude when two fingers slid into her core. He thumbed her clit. A delve from behind with his other hand massaged an ass cheek, maneuvered her body the way he wanted. A surprised little hiccup emerged out of her throat, vibrated against his lips at fingers that circled her back hole. He snickered, dipped those fingers under and forward to wet them with her excitement. “Feel so good, baby. So wet for me.” His lips traveled the underside of her chin as he spoke. “Show me what that pretty mouth wants to do to my cock.”

Julie moaned, devoured his mouth and sucked on his tongue. He fucked her with his fingers and teased her ass, slick and slippery with her want. His moans and the expertise of his strokes and circles flooded her senses with an impending wave of bliss.

He pulled back. His tongue released with a pop from her sucks. “Come for me. So pretty when you come for me.” His guttural urging commanded her to clench and bare down on his fingers pumping her. She watched him watch her release as her walls constricted and milked those fingers. Knew that his mouth was mimicking hers in the most beautiful way, forming an “O” as she whimpered, his lids heavy and heated with want. “Yeah, gonna feel so good when I sink my cock into you.” He nodded. “But, not yet.”

Shivers danced along her spine. There was no time to bathe in the afterglow. His hands pulled the sweater up and over her head. She worked open the buttons of his flannel at a frenetic pace. Dean grinned at her lace bra as he shed the first layer, then tugged off his t-shirt. Julie scooted him onto his back, making quick work of the fly of his jeans. Pants and briefs stripped off in one dramatic flare. “Happy Birthday to me.” She sang.

Dean chuckled. “Get those pants off. Let me see the whole Victoria’s Secret set before I tear it off you.” His toes, the only things still covered, wiggled in anticipation in his white socks. His cock twitched.

She rocked up to standing. “Savage x Fenty.” She corrected and peeled down the leggings to show off the dark blue lace set. She bent down and pulled off his socks by the toes.

“Whatever it is, it’s fucking hot.” He mumbled from his reclined position.

“You’re fucking hot.”

“Get that ass up here.” He nodded. She was about to pull down her panties when he added, “Uh-uh. I can work around that.” A comical raise of his eyebrows filled his expression with mischief.

“You are going to be the death of me, Winchester.” She dropped to her hands and knees, swinging into position over him. Her gaze lingered over the precum dripping down his length. 

“Hm.” His hands latched onto her thighs and eased her towards his hot mouth. “Let’s go baby. I got a preview of what your mouth can do.” He pulled the lace to the side. “Betting I can make you come first… again.”

She buckled at his hot tongue flicking her clit and swiping through her folds. He found her hole and tongue fucked, nice and slow. Her eyes clamped closed to focus on her breathing and the slide of that muscle. Her eyes opened a fraction, mouth covered the tip of his warm cock. She sucked, pulled at his juices. He moaned. She was intent on getting a proper rhythm going as she slid down his length, engulfed him inch by glorious inch. It was war now. The best kind. 

She rode him back up, popped him out of her mouth and began to pump with her hand. “I don’t know, babe.” She panted, sucked in breath at his itchy trigger finger rubbing her clit. She knew how much he liked it when she talked dirty. “I think your cock wants to fuck my mouth right and proper. Might distract you. Don’t you want to fuck my mouth with your hard cock?” He moaned again. She giggled at the beautiful reverberations. He returned his mouth to her clit with sucks and flicks. “Ugh. Not fair.” She sucked at him again and played with his balls. She pulled out her secret weapon, wrapped a hand under his ass and pried apart his cheeks in search. Two can play at that game.

His head fell back when she’d found the treasure she sought. “Jesus, Jules. I- Jesus. That feels…”

She moaned in agreement. 

“Fuck.” His hands squeezed the globes of her ass while she used everything in her arsenal to win this battle. “Yeah. Fuck.” He lifted his hips and came hard into her waiting mouth. She held on and swallowed him down, intent to not waste a drop. “Oh.” There was gravel and exhaustion in his voice. “You win. You win.” He panted.

She crawled off him to lay perpendicular, flashing her best cheeky smile. After a panty readjustment she collapsed her head onto his chest. “Ready for the next round?”

“Give me an hour.” He slid a pillow under his head to stare down at her. “You are getting quite adventurous.” A hand rested on her hip.

“I don’t know what to tell you. You flipped a switch. I’ve never had such delicious material to work with before.” She raised a brow. “Should I have warned you first before I did what I did?”

Dean sighed. “No. That was awesome. You can do that any fucking time you want.” A finger snuck under a bra strap and snapped it against her skin. She barely registered a flinch. “You really jingled my bells.”

She laughed. “Good.”

“Wanna see if you can get me going again?” He grinned.

“What happened to needing an hour?”

“Might be a slight exaggeration. I mean, I’ll probably have to be more of a passive participant.”

“So, I’m having to do all the work? On my birthday?”

Dean shrugged. “Just to get me revved up again. Promise. I’ll make it worth your while.”

She knew he would. She took her time. Stroking his body, enjoying the give of his flesh and muscles everywhere. Kissed him slow and deep. Straddled his chest, let him massage her breasts, play with her nipples and bring her body to the brink over and over again. His smoke and honey voice whispering words of encouragement.

He indeed rose to the occasion. She guided him inside, rocked into a languid rhythm with his hips. Those bow legs bent and propped up. He used the power starting at the heels of his feet to roughen up the ride. Julie’s palms splayed atop his chest, steadied on locked elbows. They made it a game again, holding out as long as they could, eventually giving each other the gift of coming together.

After, they snuggled into the mound of blankets and pillows. Fell asleep in each other’s arms, quick. Julie had slept sound. So sound that it had felt like she had just closed her eyes when he woke her with kisses against her forehead. “Jules. Baby?”

“Hm?” Her eyes squinted in the dark. 

“I was thinking I could clean out some room in your basement this weekend. Set up a little sparring area, you know, with some mats so we can work on the really fun stuff.”

She crinkled her nose. “That doesn’t sound as fun as this.” She kissed his cheek and clutched him tight. “But, I’m all for trying.”

He bent down and tilted to kiss her lips, then glanced at the watch on his wrist. “It’s almost midnight. Did you make your wish yet?”

“Don’t need to. Got all I could ask for right here.”

“Well, a wish to hit the lottery couldn’t hurt.” He chuckled.

“Okay, for you.”

She listened to his breathing regulate, until he almost drifted off first.

She whispered the phrase they had come to say more often to each other. “I love you, Dean.”

His fingers squeezed her forearm. “I love you, birthday girl.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was done. I was done with this little story. And then Jensen had to go and shovel some snow. I blame him. There may be another part if I get inspired. I mean, Julie's gotta actually watch the man shovel, right? ;-)

A chill ran over the arm and leg Julie had exposed from under the piles of comforters. She registered having heard the swish of Dean’s front door and some baritone cursing. Another breeze of cold air had her burrowing all of herself under the covers from the neck down. It might have been a good idea to make her way to the bedroom. A night on Dean’s living room floor, even with all the padding, was going to wreak havoc on her body. The room was silent again. She wondered where Dean went. Was it morning already? But sleep came too quick for her to guess or care.

_ Scrape _

_ Scrraape _

_ Scrrrraaaaape _

Julie yawned, waking up to an annoying, repetitive sound. The christmas lights were still on in Dean’s living room. The tree twinkled with tinsel and shiny ornaments. Bright white shined in through the window sheers.

“Ugh.” She winced at the ache in her lower back when she sat up. One of the puffy comforters, wrapped around her body, brought with her to standing. Her hair was more than likely a bird’s nest of tangles. Clothes from the previous night’s heated undressing scattered on the floor. No Dean in sight. She sniffed in the aroma of coffee as it brewed.

_ Scrraaape _

“Dean?” She tossed the blanket to the side having spotted her underwear and bra. The dressing in the middle of the living room was not meant for a show at the moment. Though she wouldn’t have minded if he walked in and wanted to give her another go. “Dean?” A shiver ran over her skin at the drop in temperature. It made her immediately realize how often Dean had to decide if that was due to the weather or something supernatural. Which also made her realize she was trying to figure that out now, too.

The unease made fast work donning the rest of her clothes.

“Mornin’ Wes!” Dean’s greeting confirmed he was outside.

There was some mumbling, not as close, by their mutual neighbor.

Dean continued. “Yeah, I didn’t realize we were supposed to get this much! Need any help with the driveway?”

Snow. It had started snowing when they arrived back at Dean’s house after Longwood Gardens. From the sound of Wes’s reply, he thought he had it covered.

“Alright. Let me know!”

_ Scrraape _ .

Julie sat on the plaid sofa and slipped on her ankle boots as Dean stomped outside the front door. It swung open and Julie got an eyeful.

Dean shivered and stomped again, this time on the mat atop the hardwood floor. He was dressed in snow boots, dark sweatpants and a gray sweatshirt, with a beanie on his head. His cheeks were red from the cold. A backdrop of fluffy stuff on his driveway highlighted the gap between bow legs. “Hey there, sleeping beauty.” He grinned and clicked the door shut behind him.

Her mouth dried up. “Hey.” She squeaked out, inventorying how the soft fabric draped and clung to certain parts of his frame. She’d bet Brigida’s Baked Ziti that he’d gone commando.

“Did you know we were supposed to get this much?” He huffed and clamped his teeth on the fingertip of his glove before yanking it off in one easy pull. It dangled from his mouth for a second like a chew toy. 

“What?” What the hell was he talking about? How was a woman supposed to follow any thread of conversation when he looked like that?

He removed the glove from his mouth. “The snow. We got like eight inches last night.” He smiled like a kid who woke up to news of school being cancelled because of a snow day. “First big one since I moved to Delaware. Was beginning to wonder what all the fuss was about with you east coasters and your winters.” He motioned to the kitchen counter. “Would you get me a cup of coffee, baby? I don’t want to track this mess all over the floor. Need a hit of caffeine before I get back out there.”

“Sure.” She remembered how to put one foot in front of the other and fished out Dean’s often used mug from the cabinet. Stampede Motel was printed on the ceramic in a big Western font with a silhouette of a horse riding cowboy. “Do you need help?” She poured the coffee and tipped it over in his direction to see if he was going black for the first go round.

He nodded in confirmation. She walked over to him with the gift. Her body warmed up at the way he gave her body a once. “I’ve only got the one shovel.” Cold fingers brushed along hers at the hand off. He took a quick gulp and winced at the hot liquid. “Once I clear a path down my driveway, can I finally try out that snow blower you bought?”

She laughed. “Sounds like someone wants to play in the snow.”

His arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her in close. He licked his lips, then bent down for a kiss. He pecked at her nose. “Hey, I’m just following through on my promise to use the hell out of that thing whenever the need arises.”

“Hmmm.” She hummed back and grinned up at him, his green eyes wide and sparkling. His freckles were more pronounced across the bridge of his nose against patches of pale cool skin. “Maybe I can take a couple passes with it? You shouldn’t have all the fun.”

He frowned. “I’ve been watching a bunch of videos online. There’s a system…”

She sighed. “Fine.”

He swallowed some more coffee. “You can help me with my driveway after I finish digging out Baby a little more?” He grinned. “I’ve got plenty of salt.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun and teasing in the snow. Again, not a lot but I've been wanting to post pretty soon after I get a scene or two out of my head. Enjoy. :-)

Far be it from Julie to try and manage Dean. Yeah, he probably should be wearing a coat right now. And, his shoveling technique could use some work. But the man looked so edible. His ass in those sweatpants did not deserve to be covered up.

She tried to reign in the sarcasm when she asked, “They do have snow in Kansas, right?” The massive salt shaking jug rested on her crossed forearms. The puffy coat contained all of her body heat. Body heat being ramped up by this man. This man who she suspected was trying to melt all the snow away by his mere vicinity to it.

He rose up from his bent position after chucking the last bit of snow into the persistent breeze and creating a plume of fairy dust that hit him smack in the face. He sputtered. “Please, Jules. Say what’s on your mind. Before you bite your tongue off trying to hold it.” He pursed his lips and waited, using the shovel as a crutch.

She kind of liked pissing him off. Pissed off Dean was even sexier than regular Dean.

“Sure?” She dropped the jug onto a high snow drift by his front door.

He waved a hand in front of the driveway.

“May I?” She pointed at the shovel.

One brow arched up. But he gave in and handed it over.

“I used to make a ton of money around Little Italy after a snowfall growing up. My chubby little ass ran circles around Paulie Buono.”

The grumpy frown crumbled away as Dean let out a chuckle.

“First,” she cleared her throat, “and this is not your fault, as we were very much pleasantly occupied when the snow was coming down last night…”

Dean nodded and broke in, “It was all your fault being so goddamn sexy…”

Julie waved a hand and continued, “But, it’s always best to keep up with the snowfall and work in stages. I explained this quite convincingly to Mrs. Romano and Mr. DiNatale on my block back in the day. A couple passes during a really bad snowstorm is always a much better plan. You end up with a cleaner sidewalk, dry and ice free in no time.”

Dean’s face held a little bit of pride. “You got paid for every pass, didn’t you?”

“I did. I gave them a discount for each pass, of course, but still came out ahead. Plus, I staked claim on my territory. When a kid came by all late and wrong after the storm, and wanted an easy gig, they were told by my clients that Julie already was taking care of them.”

“I’ll keep all this in mind when I start my snow shoveling business, sweetheart.” Dean grinned.

Julie huffed. “Okay, fine. Anyway, unless you want to throw your back out and be out of commission for any sexy times,” she dipped down into a deep squat, “proper form is key.”

His eyes widened and he nodded, straight and serious this time. He crossed his arms, pushing those biceps up and filling the sweatshirt sleeves to capacity.

She knew he was playing it up. But she continued, trying to remain unfazed with how cute he looked. The handle settled in her left hand as she placed her right farther down the shaft. “Don’t toss the stuff. It’s heavy. Especially now that it’s gotten all wet and compacted.” She glided along the width of the driveway. “Push it.” A rotation at the other end had her heading back toward him, using the shovel like a push broom. “Go in at a slight angle, tip the shovel up on one end, and scootch it to where you want it to go.”

“Scootch? Is that a scientific term?” A puff of air emitted out of that sinful mouth.

Julie grinned. “Humor me.” She passed the shovel back.

He sighed in a dramatic fashion and copied her all work stance. He marched away to the other side, pile driving like a football player trying to gain yardage. Julie sucked her lips in and tilted her head to take in all the gloriousness of that back and ass. He snapped around when he got to the other end and grinned. “How’s my form?”

“Perfect.” Julie mumbled.

“Alright. Let’s hurry this up then. We’ll get my Baby shoveled out. Then, snow blower awaits!”

*

Julie wanted to show him off. Blast the video she took of him shoveling snow all over Instagram. All the social media outlets she could sign up for. She imagined all the old elementary and high school classmates, of the male-attracted variety, scrolling through their Facebook timelines and seeing this hunk of a man. Oh, the surprise, then envy it would stir from most. Especially the ones that had not thought much of Julie Jelly Belly. Why not proudly show off the amazing man that was all hers? It was so tempting.

But she remembered his reminder. The one he’d given her the day after Steve in San Francisco. And every day after that.

How it was wise for her, and everyone they cared abouts safety, not to post anything that might bring unwanted and dangerous attention. Rowena had a tight leash on the goings on in Hell. But they saw first hand what a rogue demon could do.

And there were always the other monsters. Dean Winchester was a household name to them. She imagined his face on a Wanted poster tacked to a random tree in some forest. His name scraped with a sharp claw onto a bathroom stall of a dive bar frequented by werewolves and vampires. 

The cold air wasn’t the only thing making her shiver as she shoveled and dug out some things under the covered patio in her yard. Dean had boosted her over the fence a half hour prior before hopping over himself. They trudged through snow to her shed. Prying the door open and sweeping back another drift, he’d managed to get the snow blower out and onto the protected, dry asphalt under her carport. 

She watched the tell tale signs of his brain piecing together a puzzle. Furrowed brow and clenched jaw accompanied the narrowed lids inspecting the equipment. Gloved fingers ran over switches and dials and levers. She asked if he needed the manual, already knowing the huff and scowl she’d receive in response. A kiss on his lips preceded her declaration that she’d be way over there on the other side of the yard while he figured all that out. He only needed to call her if he needed someone to grab the manual.

But he never called for her. Only caught her eye occasionally and tossed her a shrug or grin or thumbs up. The snow blower’s engine roared to life after a few attempts ten minutes later. A high curve of snow shot over into the grass. Dean fought with the blower, wrangling it by the handles, pushing it where he needed, and aligning the best destination for the white stuff. He began to make some headway in the driveway clearing. Julie loved seeing the smile of accomplishment on his face.

Samuel had come out to assist Wes with cleanup. Well, more like time management.

“That sounds like a nice way to spend your birthday.” Samuel commented on Julie’s recount of Longwood Gardens. “I imagine that man over there makes it even better.” He waggled his unruly greying eyebrows.

Julie giggled, thankful her cheeks were already pink from the cold. The embarrassment wouldn’t be too obvious due to Samuel’s innuendo. “No complaints here.” She mumbled.

“Well, do me a favor?” Samuel turned serious. “Wes will insist he doesn’t need help. But if Dean doesn’t mind a quick pass on our driveway, I’d appreciate it. I’ll pull Wes into the house if need be to make sure it gets done and there are no distractions.”

“Of course. He offered.”  _ My man doesn’t go back on his word. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a never ending snow day, apparently. But, I found a way to actually connect the original part of this story to my indulgence (thank you again, Jensen). I'm thinking another part, maybe, after this one. Hope you enjoy.

The sliding door swooshed shut. “Jules!” Dean’s voice rumbled over Julie’s head. “I see you’re prepped and ready for me.”

“You could say that.” She mumbled to herself in the basement, assessing her work.

“Where you at, sweetheart?” Dean stomped his feet on the living room floor.

“Basement! Coming!” Julie skipped up the stairwell and hurried to meet his impatient tone. 

Four hours of snow blowing later, Dean looked exhausted and frozen. But, happy.

She shook her head. “How are you not a popsicle by now?”

He shrugged, shivered, and pointed to the neatly laid out old towels under his boots by the doorway. There were even a few draped over the sofa seat Dean had claimed as his months back. “Am I a wet dog that’s been playing in the mud outside?”

She shrugged back. “I don’t want to ruin the furniture. At least I don’t have everything wrapped in clear plastic.”

His face contorted in disgust for a quick second, then relaxed again. “Well, Ernie wanted to pay me for the snow removal but I refused. Little Mrs. Wheatley is bringing me over a casserole next weekend. I’m the spitting image of her late husband, Ronnie, apparently. So, you may have to fight her for me.” He took a deep inhale and halted. “What are you cooking in that kitchen?” His eyebrows lifted and disappeared under the beanie.

“Some of that ham, bean and potato soup you like. Pulled it out of the freezer last night, thinking we were coming back here. And, let Mrs. Wheatley try.” She placed hands on her hips. “I heard that snow blower all over the neighborhood, Dean. Any other women I need to be worried about?” 

“No idea. I lost count after the fourth driveway.” He collapsed onto the floor and unlaced his snow boots. He sniffed harder, nose tipped up high. “You made something else, too?” He was a tangled pretzel of muscle freeing his feet from their confines.

“Cheddar biscuits.” She grinned. “You deserve it.”

He licked his lips. “And pie for dessert?”

“And pie for dessert.” She nodded. “Oh, I checked in with Cas and Jack. They’ve dug out and are doing fine. Ma also said her next door neighbor shoveled the sidewalk - though I’m guessing she did it herself. In any case, no one needs rescuing.”

Dean smiled. “I’ve gotta get some more gas for the tank, Jules. I didn’t mean to get carried away.” He tugged off the gloves and then the beanie. He was a sweaty, red heap of deliciousness.

Julie sat on the edge of one of the non-protected sofa cushions. “Guessing you want to eat, first, and then clean up?”

An enthusiastic nod.

“Okay. I’ll bring it in here. Give me a few minutes.”

Dean raised up on his knees and waddled over to kiss her cheek. “You’re the sweetest.” He nuzzled her neck.

“I just don’t want you messing up the furniture in the kitchen.”

His lips pressed into a wide smile. “Hm, I seem to remember one night where you ended up on top of the kitchen table. Weren’t worried about messing it up then.”

Julie grinned. “You got me. I’m a hypocrite that allows sex on random pieces of furniture.” She leaned back to catch the green glint in his eye. “But that’s all your fault.”

His salty lips traced over Julie’s pout. He whispered, low and tempting, “Such a bad influence, I know.”

*

Julie had cleaned up from the late lunch/early dinner by the time Dean came down the steps, squeaky clean himself from the shower. He had on his grey and blue plaid pajama bottoms. Julie had begrudgingly picked him up a grey t-shirt one day shopping, in case he ever needed it, which he sported for the first time.

His damp hair spiked out in random directions. He pulled at the hem of the t-shirt, frowning. “I think you got me the wrong size.” The fabric hugged every ripple and dip like a second skin. 

A bit of pride at Dean’s doughy tummy bubbled up in Julie. That was mainly her and her mother’s doing. Julie shook her head. “No, I didn’t. Fits you perfect.”

He tilted his head. “Jules.”

“It does.”

A yawn followed his eye roll.

“No. No time for napping.”

“Huh? What now?” He pulled at the waistband of her yoga pants, drawing her close. “I was going to convince you to come to bed and get some shut eye with me. Before I have some pie.” He smirked.

She couldn’t help the tease back. “You already had pie for dessert.”

He licked his lips. Those hands pawed her ass. “Might want some more later.” He purred, then placed a light peck on her mouth. “I deserve it, remember?”

“Can I show you something first?”

He nodded and yawned again.

She swatted his chest. “Don’t do that or I’ll start.” She pulled away and grabbed his hand, leading him to the basement door.

“That’s the idea,” he uttered through another yawn. “What do you have to show me in the basement?”

“Will you just come on?” She whined at his playful resistance.

“Demanding. Me like.”

They picked up momentum down the wooden planks, Dean rushing behind to keep up. Julie halted at the exact spot that would have his eyes take in the scene.

“Wha- When’d you do this?” A surprised gaze accompanied the question.

Julie hopped with socked feet onto the gym mats. “While you were out being the best neighbor. I’d had this stuff from the old house boxed up. When I had the space to workout.” She shifted her weight from side to side like a boxer. “You mentioned a sparring area to teach me. Figured I’d get a jump on it for you.” She giggled. “So you can jump me.”

He groaned. “That shouldn’t sound sexy.”

She waved a hand and stilled. “Anyway, it’s here. Whenever you want to start.”

He smiled and clapped hands together. “Want to try a couple things, then?”

Julie frowned. “I thought you were sleepy.”

“Got a burst of energy. Probably only last a few minutes. Come on.”

“Oookay.”

He chuckled. “I’ll be gentle, sweetheart. Promise.” He stepped onto the mat in his bare feet and faced her head on. Stared her down like a hungry animal. “Have you ever taken a self-defense class?”

“No. Just carried pepper spray in my purse.”

“Well, maybe we go over things that can help you get out of a sticky spot. Some of these might work on predators of both the human and supernatural variety.” He raised his hands up. “Trust me?”

“Of course, Dean.”

“If something triggers and you need me to stop…” His voice trailed off.

“I won’t need to ask you. You’ll know if you need to stop.” Julie finished with certainty.

He nodded and gave her a soft smile. “So I’m going to show you one way someone, or something, might attack you.” She watched as his massive hands stretched forward, then curled around her neck. “Show me how you might get out of this hold.” His fingers dug into the soft flesh around back, thumbs pressing in, and locked her in place. He raised his eyebrows and tipped his chin up in a sharp nod. “Come on, Ms. Manners, this piece of shit isn’t playing nice. Neither should you.”

Julie had been triggered by Dean’s action. She smelled sulfur. Saw the eyes of the demon’s female vessel in that hotel room, not even two months ago in San Francisco. The demon had gripped her in a similar fashion, but there had been long, manicured fingernails poking into her skin back then. The recollection had stunned her for a few seconds but she resolved to push through it.

“Time’s precious here, sweetheart.” Dean prodded her to focus. She saw the worry in his eyes. If she didn’t do something soon, he’d relent.

Julie crab clawed both of his wrists at the same time. Her immediate thought was to try and pull his hands off her. She grunted, exerting all her strength on the action. But it was all for naught. Dean didn’t budge.

He tilted his head. “Okay. Reacting is good. But, you’d be passed out by now if I was giving it my all.” His hands dropped to his sides and brought her hands with him, still wrapped around his wrists. “In any instance, I don’t want you to think about how to overpower. Cause the fact is you’re probably going to be outweighed or out muscled. You have to think about how to escape.”

“I could give you a good swift kick in the gonads.” Julie huffed and released his wrists.

Dean scoffed. “You could. You’d be doing both of us a disservice.” He grinned. “But, if you give that a try in a situation like this - make it count and don’t miss. Pissing a crazy psycho or monster off more than it already is will guarantee death if you don’t get away. So, let’s try again. You attack me the same way this time.” He tugged up his pajamas around his thighs and bent down at the knees. “I’ll make it a little easier for you.” Flecks of freckles over the bridge of his nose were right at Julie’s eye level. “Be as rough as you want. I can take it.” He pursed his lips in a mocking expression. “Your nose crinkles are cute and break my heart, baby. But, they aren’t going to cause any actual damage.”

She sighed and straightened her stance. The tippy toe teetering almost had her taller than him. Her fingers clamped around the solid girth of his neck.

“Got a good hold?” Dean smiled. “I bet you can do better than that.”

Julie felt her mouth twist into a tight corkscrew. Even though it was an impossibility, she tried to get her opposing fingers to meet in the middle around Dean’s flesh.

A slight gasp left his pretty lips. “Much better.” His eyes lit up. “Ready?”

Julie gasped as well. “For what?”

He winked. Dean stiffened his neck. The cords sprung out tight and rigid. Her hold loosened and he dipped his head forward and down, swung out to the left. Free.

She blinked in awe. “How’d you…?”

He chuckled. “Now you. And, we’re going to practice until you get it perfect.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I found a way to bring it back around again, dear readers. I hope you enjoy it. This is the final chapter. I'm leaving a lot up to readers' imaginations. I know you have it in you. ;-)

There had been a lot of choking and strangling in the basement. Dean was adamant about practicing until perfect. He forced Julie out of her comfort zone. She took the lessons seriously and gave her all to the escape techniques.

Dean had seemed satisfied with the results of the training almost an hour later. There’d be more to do and try. But he told Julie she should be proud of how well she did. And even if she was too stubborn to believe it, he was proud of her. 

It had been the most eventful of snow days Julie could ever remember. They’d gone up for a nap to her bedroom after the sparring. Not much else to do being snowed in. And that suited Julie just fine.

Most nights, Dean was a calming tea or lavender balm that drifted her off to sleep in no time flat. But it was late afternoon and sunlight spilled in through the sheer curtains. The both of them laid on the made bed and grabbed a throw blanket to cuddle under. She curled into his chest. His arm scooped her in closer, the underside of his chin resting atop the crown of her head.

Dean released a loud, strung out yawn. “Ohhh man. You should call out of work tomorrow. Stay in bed with me all day.”

“No can do. I’m already pushing it with more time off for another trip to California so soon.”

He slid a bent knee between her thighs. “Tell ‘em your sick.” 

“Dean…”

“I know. You have to be all responsible.” He huffed, then followed with another yawn. “ _ Heeyahh. _ ”

“We’ll have so much time together when we’re away.” Julie’s soft mumbles danced over his t-shirt.

His voice trailed off, already drifting. “Never enough.” A deep snore punctuated the statement.

Julie’s heart skipped at his words. It was true for her, too. She could never get enough time with him. He really did feel like home. She listened to his breathing, slow and steady. Let the cadence and timbre lull her to sleep.

She woke to the rhythmic swiping of his fingers along her forearm. The only light in the darkened room came from the television screen.  _ Die Hard 2 _ was on mute. Her eyes focused on John McClane crawling through a ventilation system. 

Her lips tugged up in a smile, listening to Dean speak Willis’s lines in as soft a whisper as the man’s deep voice could muster. “Just once, I’d like a regular, normal Christmas. Eggnog, a fuckin’ Christmas tree, a little turkey. But, no. I gotta crawl around in this motherfuckin’ tin can.”

She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. “Why didn’t you wake me up? You know this is one of my favorites.”

He shrugged, looking happy and content.

“You know you’re getting that this year, right?”

His lids narrowed.

“A regular, normal Christmas.”

A smile filled with revelation. “I am, aren’t I?”

She tapped his chest. “Can I confess something?”

“All ears, sweetheart.”

“You are impossible to shop for. The only thing I’ve gotten you so far is a really expensive bottle of bourbon and some flannel shirts.”

“Thanks for ruining the surprise.” He chuckled. “And, I sound pretty easy to shop for.”

Her cheek nuzzled into his chest. “But, I want to get you something special. Something thoughtful and amazing. Like the gifts you gave me yesterday for my birthday.”

His fingers clutched her wrist. “I’ve set myself up for the impossible too, then. I doubt I can top those gifts for Christmas. But, if you keep working on those self defense moves on the regular, that will be an awesome gift.”

The screen lit up with an explosion. “You are even more of a badass than any hero in any movie.”

“Nah.”

“Those novels are based on real events, baby. You are more badass than John McClane.”

“Not as black and white as an action movie, though. Sometimes the good guys are the bad guys.” He sighed. “Another reason why I want you to be able to protect yourself. In case you ever have to protect yourself from me.”

That made Julie shoot her head up again. “That would never happen.”

“I’ve told you a lot. But, there’s so much more.”

She rubbed his chest. “Tell me.”

“Triggers. Memories. They’re always just right there.” His hand almost cupped the back of his head. Those beautiful eyes, now glassy, couldn’t look at Julie. He stared off to the side. “Waiting to come out. And, when they do... Sometimes, whatever’s really right in front of me... That’s gone. Replaced by things. Awful things. Things I had to fight. Kill. Or terrible things inside me that were a part of me. That I became.”

Julie held onto his chest, trying to will him to connect with her again, bring his eyes back to hers again. “Therapy helps, baby. You’re still talking to her, right?”

“I am. But, I need to know that if my switch ever gets flipped around you, and I go off, that you won’t hesitate to protect yourself from me.”

She nodded.

The motion drew him back. His gaze stared her down now. “I’m serious, Jules.”

She nodded again. “I know.”

He gave her a soft nod. “Good.”

“But, you can’t be af- worried… to show me all of you, Dean. I’m here for all of it.”

She watched him work out what he was trying to get out of his mouth. His face zipped through a bevy of emotions in seconds. “Problem is, half the time, I don’t know who I am. Without the hunting, without the monsters, without the mission. Sammy, he was always able to live one foot in and one foot out. Or, slip out of ‘the life’ completely and not look back. It’s always there for me. Not just waiting for me. But, me, needing it.”

“It was your whole life, Dean. Not everyone could walk away from that and not have it stick with them.”

His fingers clasped her jaw. The rough pad of his thumb stroked Julie’s cheek. “So, if I went looking for it, on occasion? To fill that need?”

Her eyes widened. “Are you asking me for permission to hunt?”

“You say no and I understand. I won’t do it. Not if you’d worry, or think I wouldn’t do everything I have to, to keep you and everyone around us safe and out of harm’s way.”

“Of course I’ll worry. But I worry about everything.” She slid up and along his side, perched her head next to his. “If having a life with you means living ‘the life’, then I’m here for it. I told you, I’m here for all of it. I’m not going anywhere, Dean.” She sealed the deal with a soft kiss against his lips.

He hummed. “That sounds like the most awesome gift I could ask for.”

“Well, I still have a little over a week to try and beat that.” She grinned. He knocked the wind out of Julie with a swift twirl. He tumbled atop, her on her back. Legs tangled in the throw blanket. The span of his shoulders gave her that familiar sense of safety and protection even as she gasped to catch her breath. “Is this more self-defense training?”

“Maybe.” A dip of his head and he sucked at the tender flesh of her neck. She stretched, leaned back into the comforter, giving him ample access to continue.

“It’s no good. Utterly defenseless.” Julie whimpered. Dean’s lips pecked up to her chin. “Do you have any idea how turned on I was in the basement?”

His laugh tickled her skin. “Pretty sure you felt how turned on I was a few times during our wrestling matches.”

“Well, I tried not to notice. If I said something sassy you would have gotten mad and said I wasn’t taking it seriously.” His now growing excitement poked into her hip bone.

His words broke out between kisses over her jaw. He held her steady. Fingers threaded into the hair along her temples. “You’ve got some power and strength, Jules. You shouldn’t be shy about using it.”

“Power against you?” She swirled her lips over his, tired of the teasing.

“Hm.” He smiled and flicked the tip of his tongue along the swell of her bottom lip. “I melt like butter.”

She laughed. “That kind of power… I can’t use that on everybody.”

“I wasn’t talking about using it on everybody.” One hand eased down the fabric of her t-shirt, settled onto her hip and squeezed. “Only on me. Ever.” He breathed the words into her open mouth.

“Now who’s exerting his power?” She quipped.

“All in good fun.” He pulled her in closer. A tortuous, arousing grind against the growing heat between her legs released moans from both their lips.

A thought had her tap his biceps. “Off.”

His brows merged like a mountain peak in the middle of his forehead. “Off?”

She nodded.

He huffed and rolled to his side. She tossed off the throw from their bodies and marveled at the bulge in his pajamas for a second, then headed to the plastic bag she’d brought back from his house that morning. It held the birthday gift he’d given her and a couple other decorations she’d pilfered that they hadn’t used. She grabbed it by the handles. Something jangled.

“Power, huh?” She pulled out a long faux leather decoration with sleigh bells. The jingling continued as she strolled back to the bed.

His eyebrows shot up. “Okay, that’s just going to hurt if you try to smack my ass with that.”

She shook her head. “We were talking about triggers earlier. If this is too much…”

“I don’t even know what that pretty little head of yours is thinking, but there’s no way you’re going to trigger anything bad right now. And, if you do, I’ll say my safe word.” He nodded. “Kale.”

She giggled and swung the belt like decoration back and forth. The merriment and laughter echoed in the room. “Take off your shirt?” She asked.

He smiled in that soft way that he only let her see. “Are you asking or telling?”

“Take off your shirt.”

He nodded with a huge grin now. The shirt stripped off along with a rise to sit on the edge of the bed.

She snuck between his open legs. Took in the curves and ridges of his chest in the shadows. The light from the television screen behind her lit up half his face. “Hands together.” She commanded.

He swallowed, clasped his hands together as an offering.

“Let’s see if this will work like I thought it might when I first saw it last night.”

A blank expression wiped away his amusement as she wrapped the sleigh bells, leather side around his wide wrists, doubling it over, ringing non stop. “You saw this innocent, minding-its-own-business decoration and the first thing you thought about was tying me up with it?”

She nodded with complete seriousness.

He shook his head. “I love you.”

She grinned and fastened the hook on one end to the ring on the other end. He tried to push and wiggle his wrists out. But there was little give. “See? It’s like some dominatrix little elf had a bunch of naughty thoughts when she was putting this thing together.” She pushed him back onto the bed, knuckles from both hands against his chest. He bounced a bit and the bells jostled in his lap.

He chuckled. “Okay, so you’ve reined me in. Now what are your plans?”

Her eyes grazed over the entirety of his body. She licked her lips, hungry for him. “Hands over your head.”

The bells rang. His arms swung back, lengthened. His bound hands settled in the ravine between the pillows. Shoulders rounded close to his ears. He tipped his head up, eyes wide as she pulled down his pajama bottoms, leaving him naked and waiting on the bed.

She grabbed the hem of her shirt and removed it, along with her bra. “Let’s see how quiet you can keep those bells.”

“Are you challenging me?”

She nodded.

“Damn, you’re pretty.” He licked his lips.

“If you rise to the challenge…” she began.

“Oh, I’m rising as we speak.” He used his chin to point to his erection.

She laughed. “Meet the challenge, you get your prize.” Julie sunk to her knees between his legs and placed her hands on the tense muscles of his thighs.

“Only if the prize is you, sweetheart.” He dropped his head back into the comforter.

She hummed and cupped the base of him.

He jolted and jingled.

She pulled her hand away.

“Shit.” He mumbled.

“Try again, hot stuff.” She cajoled.

He sighed. She watched him lock his arms tight and stiff. He looked long and strong from her vantage. The back of his head tilted back farther into the mattress. The slope of his neck and the bob of his Adam’s apple made her mouth water. He spoke, low and deep. “Okay. Touch me.”

Julie waited.

“Touch me, baby.” He let out a soft whine.

“Are you forgetting something?” She held back a giggle even as her panties continued to dampen.

The curve of his smile cocked up the side of his mouth. “Touch me, please.”

“That’s better.” Her fingers wrapped around him again.

His sigh sounded like one of relief. “Might I point something out? Please?” His eyes were closed, chin angled up toward the ceiling.

“You may.” She licked her lips at the arousal leaking from his tip.

“Certain jingles are kind of out of my control when you man handle me.”

“So, I should stop?”

“No. No.” He breathed out slow and steady and chanced a little head bob. “Just… if you are going to man handle me. Which I hope to Christ you do… You know, your actions have an equal and opposite reaction.”

“Newton’s Third Law of Motion. I’ll keep that in mind and try not to punish you for that. Too much.”

He lifted his head up and locked eyes with her. “You sexy little nerd. Punish the fuck out of me. Please.” He groaned.

And that was how Julie spent the night: jingling Dean’s bells.


End file.
